The Birth of a Demon
by Marcel DeVore
Summary: The past of Dilandau revealed
1. Default Chapter

The Birth of a Demon

By Christian Pietka

Chapter 1

            Marcel DeVore fine-tuned his invention for their first human subject. How long had he waited for this moment to come in all his years as a sorcerer? Years? Decades? It didn't matter how long, soon he would taste the fruit of his tree of labor, and it surely shall be sweet. Emperor Dornkirk guided him with new theories and ideas which led him to the design, and finally the creation of his child, of his soul, of his life, the Fate Alteration Engine was finally complete for experimentation. If it was successful they could now figure out how to make it powerful enough to affect the whole world, for Zaibach's ideal future.

            His sweat beaded on his forehead, time was running low and Dornkirk would soon want to begin testing. He checked every part of the Engine, and then he checked it again, and again. He could never seem to check it enough for one problem could lead to the end of the project, which would end his entire life's dream.

            A sound was heard from behind him. He heard the sound many times; it was the monitor turning on. Emperor Dornkirk had finally come for his Engine. The Aged-worn face looked ominous on the screen. It was like looking to the face of the creator of Gaia. 

            "Marcel," Dornkirk's voice boomed through the monitor. "Has the Engine been properly examined yet?"

            Marcel bowed before Dornkirk. No matter how hard Marcel tried he could never achieve the intelligence of science as Dornkirk had achieved. "Yes sir, but I am still uncertain about this."

            "This can not wait any longer, we need to test it before I can find the power spot."

            Marcel grit his teeth. He truly wanted another month before testing his life, but Dornkirk's word was law, and he will obey. "Yes sir, it will be ready within the hour. Will the power preparations be complete by then?"

            "They were complete yesterday. Zaibach will invest all energy to the Engine."

            Amazing how quickly the Emperor worked. Truly the gods were merciful when they brought him to Zaibach. He remembered how it was before the Emperor well. He was merely a child, but his memory of that time was still fresh. The barren soil, the scorching sun, and the enemies always invading his home. It was brutal and he had no faith in a savior ever coming.

            But when he was playing on a field he saw a man. A frail man, not even knowing how he would become the emperor. He looked at the man who seemed to look through a narrow tube. He gave it to Marcel and when he looked through it he was amazed. He could see beyond the dunes and almost saw the next town. The man called it a telescope. He taught him how glass can bend light and make things look larger. That was Marcel's first lesson in the magic Dornkirk called "Science". The magic that would bring Zaibach to become the power it was today.

            He made one final check of the entire Engine and took a breath. He could make no more, and it was finally time. It was time to put his Engine, in fact his dream to the test. He made a silent prayer to any god who would hear him. "Please make this work," he muttered, "Let this become the glory of Zaibach."

            Marcel pushed the button on his board and the floor started to rumble. With a quick jerk the floor begun to descend to a room many times the size of his old one. Tubes, machines, and most importantly, his fellow Sorcerers were all ready for him. These men were the reason why Zaibach grew. With the knowledge of Dornkirk to guide them, there was nothing that their imaginations couldn't think up.

            "So, Marcel, is the Engine working properly?" A sneer voice from behind said.

            Marcel turned around. It was Gular, one of the top Sorcerers who wanted the Engine project. He was brilliant, Marcel couldn't overlook it, but it was his arrogance that was his downside. He seemed to overlook obvious faults and underestimated his students. This was what put Marcel over him, and Gular resented him for it. Many times Gular tried to ruin Marcel's reputation and Dornkirk's satisfaction with him, but many of Marcel's students and other sorcerers always thwarted his attempts before they became to serious so that Marcel could concentrate more on the Engine. If it would work then Gular's arrogance shall finally be destroyed, however if it failed it would only fuel the fire. 

            "Yes, Gular, it is quite finished and I believe that it will make a glorious addition to the Empire of Zaibach."

            It was then that someone caught his eye. Someone was behind Gular. He stood tall, and had a young face. Silver hair that stood up, his eyes were purple, and shimmered with intelligence, but also with regret. His face was handsome, but there was a tear on his right cheek. He wore a yellow robe, which meant he was a student. "Who is he, Gular?" I asked pointing to the boy.  
            Gular looked over his shoulder and smiled. "This is my new student, Folken Strategos, former prince of the land of Dragons. Folken say hello."

            Marcel extended his right hand and in return was gripped by a hand of steel. Marcel eyes were wide with terror to find that Folken's arm was made of metal.

            Folken looked surprised but suddenly calm. "I lost it during a rite of succession."

            "Such barbaric nature your country must have," Marcel responded. "I am certain that you will appreciate the civilized nature of Zaibach. But, this is a top-priority experiment and we cannot have students enter here. I must ask you to leave."

            Folken nodded and departed. Marcel had a feeling that he couldn't shake from that man, that he would be a critical part of Zaibach's future. He just hoped that Gular wouldn't spoil this fresh mind. 

Gular gave a glare that would normally chill someone's blood, but Marcel had more things to worry about. "Where is the test subject?"

            "She will be here momentarily. Jajuka gave us some trouble apprehending the girl. We had to force him down."

            Jajuka, the beast-man who tended to the children who the Sorcerers were experimenting on. Marcel found it odd that he would cause an uproar for a child. He normally detached himself from the children. Perhaps he had found this one to be special. If that is the case it would be no other option than this child to operate the Engine on.

            The guards came in. The right one was bandaged up. Perhaps from Jajuka. She seemed to be about ten years old, perfect age for what they needed. Dornkirk wanted to use the Fate Alteration Engine to change a girl to a boy and be able to make that boy into a perfect warrior. Marcel never understood why, but he never dared question the Emperor. 

            The girl seemed to be crying as she struggled against the solder in a futile attempt to get him to let go. This child certainly had spirit. Truly the perfect on to make a warrior. 

            "Place her on the table. Let us begin!"

************************************************************************

            How long had he waited for this moment to present itself. Ever since Marcel had taken the project from him, Gular plotted this moment or ruin for him. Though he dare not act against Dornkirk directly. For years he looked at Marcel's formula of the Fate Alteration Engine. And to his surprise it was perfect. This child would certainly become the perfect warrior, and that Gular could not allow.

            Gular looked at the formula, but altered it slightly each day so Marcel wouldn't noticed. It would drive this girl to a craze madness and would go insane within a few days. She would become a mad child who will ultimately kill herself. He grinned at the embarrassment that Marcel shall receive. 

            "Altering fate!" Marcel shouted.

            "It has begun," Gular muttered with a grin. "Altering Fate!" He shouted as he started his engine.

            The fellow sorcerers at their positions started to yell their response back to Marcel. The Engine started to charge up and move. The graceful beauty and perfect motion that the Engine possessed was truly remarkable. Marcel truly was Gular's superior, but that will be a secret that only he shall know. When the child dies, he shall present the same formula that Marcel originally constructed and be made responsible for taking over the solder project.

            The Engine fired at the child as she begun to glow. Her scream was high and piercing. Gular wanted to cover his ears, but he had to continue with his duties or else the Engine will fail and he would be to blame, but soon the child's scream subsided and when it was over the child laid still and reborn.

            "How is she…I mean "he" doing?" Gular asked.  
            "He is doing well," Marcel responded. 

            The boy looked the same as the girl he once was, but as a male. The Engine had worked, to Gular's demise, but it would be the formula where he shall take his vengeance.

            He looked at Marcel, he couldn't help but express his joy. His life's dream had been realized and with it he shall most certainly go down in the hall of the wise. A place where Sorcerers of profound knowledge and accomplishment were honored. Many sorcerers dedicated their lives to achieve such an honor, but very few made it. Marcel looked upon the newly made boy with such hope in his eyes.

            "Have you thought of a name?" One of the other scientists asked.

            "No," Marcel replied. He then looked directly at Gular.  "Gular, I've heard you were an expert on names. You were the one to call this the 'Fate Alteration Engine'. Why not name this child."

            Gular was surprise at Marcel's request, but he had one that was perfect. "Dilandau."

            Marcel's eyes widen in horror. "You dare name this child after the thousand head slayer?"

            Gular smiled at Marcel's shock. It seemed to suit Marcel quite well. "Why yes, though his blood lust and madness overtook him, he did win many battles for the Empire with his savage battles and his love of death. This child was made to not only meet that potential, but to surpass it too."

            Marcel looked down upon the boy. Though the boy did look calm and peaceful, Gular knew that he made sure that not only will he fight as the infamous Dilandau, but also act like him as well. He studied the mind after being rejected for the Engine project, and found what chemicals to add to bring such madness to one's mind.

            Marcel nodded. "I agree, Dilandau it is. This shall be the perfect solder to help Zaibach to reach its ideal future. He shall be the perfect solder for all Zaibach solders to aspire too. We have much hope rested on this child's shoulder, I pray that he shall live up to our expectation."

            The monitor came on and Emperor Dornkirk appeared. All Sorcerers bowed before the screen.

            "Marcel, has the Engine worked?"

            Marcel smiled with pride. "Yes, my emperor. It had worked perfectly. I present to you for the Zaibach Empire, our newest solder, Dilandau."

            "Excellent," Dornkirk responded, "I made a wise choice in selecting you. I have assigned him to be taught under General Adelphos. His fortress, the Lione, shall arrive within a few hours. Have Dilandau prepared by then."

            Marcel bowed, "Yes my lord, I shall have all preparations ready."

            Gular smiled, "Let all of mankind scream under the abomination we now know as Dilandau," He muttered.


	2. The Birth of a Demon Chapter 2

Chapter 2

            The light blinded him, surrounded him, he couldn't escape it. The light completely enveloped his body and his mind. He could feel it inside of him, changing his thoughts, changing who he was. He grasped his head, trying in a futile effort to protect his center. His defenses were non-existent and the force just kept invading.

            He ran. Fighting was solving nothing at this point. But this light was quicker and larger. No darkness or shadow to hide from this light. It begun to burn him from the inside. The searing pain was tearing through his soul and making him go numb in the mind. He screamed, but the scream was silent, no one would hear it, not even him. The pain continued to grow until all he could do was collapse and fall into the darkness within his mind.

            Suddenly he jerked up, panting. The sweat covered his chest and his pillow was drenched. He brushed his hand through his hair and tried to remember what had happened. He shifted through the horrible memory of the dream to find any information he could find. His eyes widen in fear that there was no information. He had nothing beyond the dream. He couldn't even remember where, or even who he was.

            The boy looked around and took a long look of his surroundings. It appeared that he was in a bedroom. He looked at the dark walls that seemed as if he was living in a stone. He touched the walls and the coldness of the walls settled in. Though cold, it felt familiar; the coldness of the wall seemed comforting, as if, he too was cold along with it. 

            He saw a mirror and looked into it. He was surprised at the image that was returned. Was this his face? Is this what he truly looked like? He was handsome, and the silver hair looked great on him. Truly he could not complain how he looked. Truly a perfect face, it would be a pity of something were to happen of it. He only wished to remember what he used to look like when he was a child. In fact, he wished if he could remember anything as a child.

            The door opened up and there stood a man in armor. He stood tall and proud, never slouched once. His eyes brown as well as his hair and beard. He word a red cape along with his silver armor. His sword hooked to his belt, the metal gleaming within the reflected light. The boy took a step back.

            "Who are you?" The boy shouted.

            The man chuckled and looked back at the child. "I know who I am, but I am certain that you cannot say the same for yourself, can you?"

            The boy froze. How did this man know that he had no past? He just figured it out a few minutes ago.

            "Not surprised, when we found you the sorcerers tried everything they could to save you. Though they succeeded in body, they were unsuccessful in saving you in mind. They said that your memory may never return."

            The boy started to cry. He fell, unable to keep the strength of his knees. His past erased? He didn't even have the pleasure of knowing his name. He looked up to the man. "Who am I?"

            The man smiled as if pleased with the boy's question. He approached the boy and rested his hand on the boy's shoulder. The warmth of the man's hand unsettled him; it felt too unnatural for his liking. He preferred the coldness of the wall. "Your name we did find."

            The boy opened his eyes in hope. He looked up at the man who gentle smiled down. The man came down to one knee and looked the boy in the eyes. The man's eyes flinched for a second and then brought back to their steady course. "Your name is Dilandau, and I am General Adelphos. I found you at a border village in the outskirts of Zaibach, your homeland."

            "My village? I have a home?" Dilandau asked.

            "Had," Adelphos replied lowering his head. He stood up and walked to a window. "Come here boy," he ordered. 

            Dilandau stood up, following the General's orders as if by nature. He went to the window and looked down and in oddly excitement, saw an entire village being burned. A pulling instinct led him to believe that the burning rubble was his home. He continued to stare at the fire dancing. It was the fire burning the village that set his blood burning as well. "What happened?" Dilandau asked.

            "Enemies of Zaibach invaded our nation and destroyed your village. When we finally came the invaders were gone. We searched desperately for survivors but only you were found. I took you and brought you to my floating fortress, the Lione. I had my healers and sorcerers that were aboard to help save you from your wounds. They were horrible wounds, but we had very skillful healers and the sorcerers with their magic brought you to health without even a scar. You should thank them when you meet them."

            Dilandau absorbed the entire story. He was alone. The thought of him being alone sent a pain to his soul. He didn't want to be alone. That brought a familiar feeling that seemed to be linked to his past, but he couldn't remember what. He dismissed it.

            Dilandau turned from the window, he could take no more of this lonely feeling, and turning away made it fade. He looked towards the general who continued to look at the flaming village. "What will become of me?" Dilandau asked.

            "It is up to you, we could leave you at the closest village and Zaibach will make sure you are taken care of, or you could join us and learn under me and become a solder of Zaibach."

            Dilandau didn't think much of his first option; it was the latter that interested him. He could join the army of Zaibach and find those who had done this to his town. He would learn the art of fighting and become a solder. He looked up at the General. "I will join the Zaibach army."

            General's face suddenly became stern and emotionless. "Are you sure?" He asked. "I must warn you that a life in the Zaibach army isn't a proud and easy chore. It is tireless and always taken for granted by the civilians. You will most likely receive no praise, however if you join you shall never be alone and shall always have your brothers and sisters in arms. Are you sure that this would be the right path for you to take, Dilandau?"

            "General," Dilandau started, "I must join you. I have to take vengeance for my family and the other villagers. Those who dared to attack my home shall feel my wrath and I will bathe myself in their blood. I can see no other option that you allowing me to join your forces and become a solder of Zaibach. I am your to command as long as I shall be given the chance to slaughter the ones who dared to try to kill me. "

            The General looked deep into Dilandau's eyes. Dilandau could feel his gaze seeping into his soul. Dilandau just stood there gazing back letting the General see all that he could.

            "Very well," The General nodded. "You should rest up well tonight, young boy. Your training shall start tomorrow, under my instruction."

            The General walked away and left the room. Dilandau looked upon the burning village again. The longer he stared at the fire and more his smile grew. He would bathe in the blood of his enemies and there will be no one who would stop him from achieving his vengeance. His sword will be his throat and he shall make sure it will always be thirsty, and blood shall be its only drink. 

            Those sorcerers truly had done it this time. Making an innocent child such as that into a so-called perfect solder. When will those men ever learn that it takes strength and natural-born dedication to make a true solder. Their machines and science can only imitate those qualities but shall never duplicate it.

            Adelphos wasn't sure why the Emperor wanted this boy under his command. Any one of the other three generals would have done just as well. However he should be humbled and honored for the Emperor's decision of giving him the duty of teaching this child. However, there was something wrong with him. Whenever they pulled this ploy on a child they wanted to recruit, they always cried when seeing their village destroyed. It was never an easy task to destroy a Zaibach village, but sacrifices must be made. This boy however…stared at the fire. Not only that he could see something disturbing within the child's eyes. It was like looking into pools of blood. Blood of an innocent. It disturbed him slightly, but perhaps he could use it to Zaibach's advantage.

            "How is the child?" A voice from the shadow asked.

            Adelphos stood still. How he now loathed that voice. Ever since the Lione had come back to the capital to pick up this child, that voice had been following him better than his own shadow. "He is awake," Adelphos said. "Though I do not believe that this boy is all that you say he is."

            "I know," the voice replied, "He is more."

            Adelphos turned around. He had enough of this talk about this boy being the future of Zaibach. He flung his hand to the shadows and drew out a sorcerer. It was Marcel, though Adelphos could understand why he had such an interest in this child it was no excuse for him to bring an esteem general such as himself to the brink of madness. 

            "I know how much Emperor Dornkirk values you sorcerers. You get recognition and you always have his ear while I had fight and kill to achieve the same honor that was just handed to you without combat. You may give us better Guymelefs, and better floating fortresses, but I tell you this and listen well: You shall never make a better solder than I or any other man of rank. Making a solder does not take tubes and machines. It takes time, dedication, and a lot of sweat, and most importantly, a lot of blood. What you have made is not a solder, but a monster… a freak who will most likely die in his first battle."

            Marcel removed Adelphos's hand and threw it back at him. "You will not speak to a sorcerer in that matter," Marcel growled.  "You may be one of the four generals but I am a highly valued sorcerer and the creation of your so called 'freak' was made by the order of the Emperor himself. He wanted to test a classified project and that boy is the result. He shall be the perfect solder."

            Adelphos stared back at the sorcerer's eyes. They stood frozen and they both weren't yielding their beliefs. Adelphos had learned under the past generals of Zaibach, that the sorcerers were the men who made life better, however, it was the solders of Zaibach that made life possible. He refused to yield by someone who hadn't even seen a battlefield, let alone combated in one. They were only involved with politics and science. He was involved in the survival and the prosperity of Zaibach.

            "You made have made him into the child he is now, but under my watchful eyes he will become the man I will make him to be."

            "Of course you shall, but be careful General Adelphos, though you may have him under your command, I can easily take him away with one word to Emperor Dornkirk."

            "Then do it!" Adelphos snapped. He had enough of this Sorcerer's mouth, he didn't care for his petty threats or his freak. All he cared about was getting back to the front lines. "But you will have to explain to his eminence why a border village of Zaibach is now burning to ash as we speak. Tell him why you ordered us to slaughter every man, woman, and child in that village just so we would give that child a reason to join our forces. Some of my men even had family and friends in that village, do you want to explain to them the real reason why they had to attack it. I would gladly beg of you to take my position and the decisions that I have to make. Do not threaten me!"

            The sorcerer had flinched, this was the moment that Adelphos was waiting for, a sorcerer's moment of weakness.

            "If you would like to come here and command an army of innocent men to stain themselves with innocents' blood, then so help me, do it! Get out from your laboratories and pick a sword and carry some armor, if not then let me do the work that I was made to do!"

            Adelphos took a deep breath. How he loved the taste of the facing a sorcerer. Though sometimes he would lose, it was the small victories against them that he loved. He never yielded to a sorcerer in the past, and he certainly will not yield to one now. 

            The sorcerer closed his eyes for a second and looked back at the General. "I am now fully certain that you are truly the man whom would be best to teach little Dilandau the art of war. You most certainly passed the test. Emperor Dornkirk shall be pleased. I will recommend to the Emperor that you shall be given greater responsibilities and be given the head command of all armies of Zaibach if you do well teaching this boy. I thank you General Adelphos.

            Adelphos stood surprised. Was the sorcerer trying to get him to lash out at him? Why? What reason would there be for it? It was beyond his grasp as he stood quietly as the sorcerer Marcel left the hallway, and left the Lione. 

            Marcel was most certainly pleased with the General's response. It was his pride and complete loyalty of the Zaibach Empire that removed all doubt from his mind. Truly Gular will not be able to corrupt this general. 

            Soon the boy shall begin his training and the foundation of a perfect solder of Zaibach shall finally be made and soon the others who will follow Dilandau's path shall make the empire stronger and invincible.

            He turned around and saw the Lione preparing to leave. "Farewell, Dilandau, take care and grow strong. Do not let anyone stop you from your destiny and become the great warrior that I know you shall be. Tear down all your opposition and level all barriers that will stop us from achieving the ideal future that Zaibach was destined to have."

            He turned around and continued to walk down the hallway, down to the unknown territory that is called the future. He prayed to all gods living and dead that this journey shall be worth it.


	3. The Birth of a Demon Chapter 3

Chapter 3

            Gular smiled as he saw the Lione take flight. There was nothing that Marcel could do to prevent the effects from taking place. Even if he were to discover the tampering in his formula, it will be too late for them to be reverse and Dilandau will remain psychotic and bloodthirsty. 

Though the effects were air tight, it was General Adelphos that worried him. The General would be the only one who could prevent Dilandau from going completely mad if he mental steeled the child. Though he considered to inconceivable for the ignorant mind of a solder to understand a complex plot that only a sorcerer could create, Adelphos was no ordinary solder. He had the potential of being a great sorcerer and perhaps even surpass Emperor Dornkirk if he so wished, but fortune smiled for Gular and gave Adelphos a sense to strength his arm, and not his mind. 

Though not at his full potential however, Adelphos was still cunning. His strategies of battle and his skills with the sword and guymelefs won battles in situations that should have been lost. It was the General who helped make Zaibach the power it was as well as many sorcerers who were immortalized in the Hall of the Wise. 

Adelphos was the only wild card, but not a significant one. His loathing for the sorcerers was well known even to the common folk. He made plead after plead with Emperor Dornkirk to not invest so much into science as he should into the art of war. Though many people would have died for such a request Dornkirk knew of Adelphos's victories and contributions to the Empire. He was the only solder who possessed Dornkirk's ear, and that angered Gular terribly.

Footsteps echoed within the room as Folken entered. Gular looked at the reflection of the window and saw him standing there with his yellow robe, labeling him a student. Though he had just started he had shown tremendous progress in learning the art of science. Dornkirk was so impressed that he had given Folken some lessons of his own. It was an honor that not even he was given as a student. Envy boiled in Gular's veins, but he still had control over this boy and he was still his teacher.

"Come here, Folken," He said waving his arm towards the window. Folken obediently followed Gular's orders and stood beside his teacher. "It is not only science that you should learn in this society, Folken. It is also the art of foreseeing events that could possible make or break one's life."

Folken looked to Gular in a puzzling look. "What do you mean?"

"Look out there," He pointed to the scenery. "Tell me what you see, Folken?"

"I see a floating fortress. I think it's called the Lione. Is that what you're pointing to master?"

"Yes, and within is one of my greatest hopes of an experiment. Tell me Folken, what is the most important thing you need to do when you're performing an experiment?"

"To observe," Folken answered.

"Yes," Gular said gleefully. "To observe, but what should one do if he is unable to observe himself?" Gular asked.

"Perhaps have someone do the observing for him and send you the results whenever they can."

"You are absolutely correct, Folken." Gular put his hand on Folken's shoulder.

            "Master, what is this experiment that you are talking about?"

            Gular smiled, he never thought of it, but he secretly wanted Folken to ask that question. He needed to answer him. "It's a study on how failure of another experiment does to a sorcerer."

            "Does the Emperor know of this experiment?"

            Gular thought about the question for a moment. He didn't want to be caught in a lie in case someone was listening in. Spies seem to be rampant on sorcerers these days. Sometimes they come in forms of students. "You don't need to worry yourself about that, my dear student. I assure that everything has been taken care of. You may go back to your studies, I will be expecting a report of your lessons by the morning."

            "Yes, they are almost done."

            Gular was shocked. "Almost done? Are you sure you haven't made any mistakes? You know that cheating is cause for an execution when becoming a sorcerer."

            Folken smiled and bowed his head humbly. A little too humble for Gular to dismiss. "Do not worry sir, with the extra lessons that the Emperor had been graciously giving me during my free time had given me great insight. Truly he is a gift from the heavens, I do hope that I would have the honor of learning under him again.

            Gular's eyes widen with fury. This lad surpassed him when he was Folken's age. Who was he to accomplish this much already? If this continued he may have to make him obscured, or perhaps even dispose of him altogether.

            Folken started to leave and when he reached the door one final question came to Gular's mind.

            "Folken?"

            "Yes, sir?"

            "One more question for you to answer and I shall trouble you no more."

            Folken bowed once again, Gular seemed to like that habit of his. "By all means, sir, ask."

            "If an experiment doesn't seem to be have a different result than the way it should, what should we do to the experiment?"

            Folken looked up in a curious nature. "Sir, that was your very first lesson. If an experiment doesn't give you the results, you write it down and terminate the experiment."

            Gular grinned; he most certainly enjoyed the answer. "You are right Folken, you terminate the experiment. You may go, and close the door, I do not want to be disturbed."

            Folken gentle closed the door. When the sound on the latch was certain Gular laughed. He could see it all unfolding before him. If this boy does become mad he shall disgrace Marcel beyond repair, however if those results seem not to come, he shall get rid of the child.

            He looked with the corner of his eye and saw a red light flashing. It was him. At last he called. Gular rushed quickly to the door to see if it was securely locked, this was a moment where an unexpected visitor was truly not wanted.

            After being made sure of the door not opening he opened the channel. The screen turned on and showed darkness.

            "Is this a secure channel, I do not want any record of this being brought to me."

            A figure moved outside of the shadows, Gular couldn't see any marks or his face, but he knew it was him.

            "Yes," the figure replied. "I followed your instructions on sending this channel. I have also memorized the other paths to take so not to make use of the same channel twice, as well as the emergency channel."

            Gular smiled, this one was certainly worth the money he paid for. "Now remember, though you were hired as an assassin I do not want you to kill him unless on my say so. All I want you to do for now is to observe and keep track on the boy. Tell me anything and everything you might even consider irrelevant. I want ever detail."

            "When do I get to kill him, I am not someone who liked waiting in the shadows for long."

            "I want him to get through training first. I want to see if the formula is working or if it does need a new approach. I also want your psychological analysis as he progresses. Anything will be fine."

            "What if everything you said comes to pass, I do not want to be here for nothing when I could be having excitement."

            "Ever the impatient assassin you are. If he ends up dying by ordinary means your pay shall be doubled. Now, if he goes through training, will you be able to kill him with the skills he'll possess?"

            A small laughter came from the shadows. It was icy and heartless, and it made Gular smile grow. "Do not worry about that." Then the channel was suddenly closed.

            This was truly not an interesting case, but money was money. Also with the added money if the child killed himself, the assassin for the first time actually hoped that he wouldn't have to kill, but the hope was faint. 

            With his teaching his father gave him he was already a master pilot as well as a expert swordsman. Only one of the three master swordsman, that infamous Doppelganger, bested him in combat. But he got his revenge when he met him again. Truly he hadn't felt thicker blood than from a doppelganger.

            He looked at the photo of the boy. He couldn't possibly understand why he was considered such a threat to this man. But he didn't care, money was money and murder was murder. Both of them excited him.

            He took his sword and started to begin his practice. Each swing was precise and accurate. Swordplay wasn't just a way to make a living; it was his form of art. Each swing and each stroke was filled with grace and beauty. He had learned from many people, learning new techniques and styles. 

            His father made sure he learned how to pilot a guymelef and understand its strengths, weaknesses, and the unique limits that an individual pilot possessed and how to use it against them.

            "Sleep well, boy," he said. "As the years shall pass and the sun and the mystic moon shall rise, along with them, you too shall fall.

            He threw the picture up and flung a dagger, catching it and sending it to the wall. With a chilling laugh he went to his bed, tomorrow shall begin the hunt. Tomorrow shall begin the ending of Dilandau.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

            The destruction of his village, the destruction of his past, and the partial destruction of his homeland, Zaibach. Ever since he had woken in this world there had been nothing but destruction. Was this what he was destined for? That everything around him shall crumble to dust? That people shall die around him in helpless fear? What was he to do with such a fate? A fate that the gods would show no pity to relieve him of.

            The thoughts continued to dance within Dilandau's head. Endless questions and not a single answer for any one of them. He tried to solve them with the information that the General had given him. All he knew was that an enemy invaded his homeland and that his village was destroyed, along with it his memory. What did Zaibach, or his village do to bring such an attack down upon him. He wanted to grieve for his loss friends and family, but it is hard to grieve for whom you never even know existed in the first place.

            He continued to lie on the bed. He turned his head and looked at his uniform. A blue uniform, symbolizing Zaibach's endless courage. He hoped that he would be able to wear the uniform with as much courage as those who wore it before him. He looked next to the costume and saw a sword. Its gleam and beauty excited him. He couldn't wait to learn how to use such an instrument. He shall become a great swordsman and he shall surely cover it with the blood and entrails of his enemies. 

            He took hold of his blade. It felt familiar to him, as if it was a detachable piece of himself. He moved it, though it looked clumsy and looked like an amateur he marveled at how it could look in his mind. He smiled at how it will look when in battle. Though it would be years before he would be a full-fledged solder of Zaibach, he would have that thought of battle in his mind. 

He held his sword high and brought forth a vision of a battle. Zaibach against the murderers who had attacked his village. He could see the sun shining on such a glorious day, the wind gave a gentle breeze, and the grass grew as if it was just another day. He stood there, in command of an elite force of 13 warriors. He wore his blue suit with pride and raised his sword.

His enemies growl at him, jealous of the achievement he had succeeded in making. They were barbarous and cruel. They wore skins of dead animals and their helmets were nothing more than skulls of the innocent that they had killed. They waved their swords and pounded their chest to scare away the courageous Dilandau, but he would not even flinch from their might.

Dilandau, with his red eyes, glared back at the savages and gave them pity. He pitied them for having to die on a wonderful day such as this and ruthlessly by his blade. He continued to hold his sword high. "Prepare yourselves, my men, for we shall take vengeance against those who dared to make our lives end early. We shall bathe today with their blood and bring forth a new era so strong that the gods themselves shall pause and look down on our glory. Do not fear death, for it shall not be on you if you put your courage to this life. If they escape follow them and slaughter them. Do not let a single one survive, as they wouldn't have given us the chance if they found us. Charge!"

Dilandau threw his sword to the ground. His elite force gave a yell and charged. Dilandau followed them with his sword to his side. He seemed to move with the speed of the wind. He extended his sword to his side and charged the closest enemy. He swung his sword with such grace and speed that the barbarian didn't even attempt to parry or dodge, but just die. 

He moved around and swung his sword with fury killing a man behind him. His movements were as if were a piece of art in motion. It was when an arm grabbed his shoulder. Dilandau turned around going to swing but was caught with a fist.

"What is going on here at this time of night?" A voice screamed. Dilandau opened his eyes and it was General Adelphos. 

He wasn't wearing his armor but was still in uniform. His eyes flared with anger and pointed to the wall. Dilandau turned around and saw his chair along with his uniform cut to pieces. Dilandau seemed to have forgotten that it was just his mind creating the battle. Adelphos took the sword away from Dilandau and grumbled.

"You seem hungry for practicing this already. But recklessness shall not be tolerated. For your disappointing behavior you shall be punished by wearing a red uniform, its what people wear when described as reckless. You shall wear it until you are considered to be under control. Now I recommend that you go back to bed, because you shall surely need your rest."

General Adelphos turned around and walked away, taking Dilandau's sword with him. 

Dilandau walked to the window and held on to the window. The coldness seemed to have calmed his nerves. Though the battle was imaginary, he could still feel the blood rush to his body. Truly he would experience the thrill of battle sooner or later. He couldn't wait to see the terror and the anguish of his village's destroyers. He shall not let them live with impunity, nor let them die quick. 

He looked at the chair and the destroyed uniform. He didn't care for the color anyway. Red seem to be more his nature. He went to his bed and closed his eyes. As the blackness of sleep started to overcome him his last thought gave him a grin: It was he being covered with the blood of his enemies.


End file.
